


The Masquerade Bandits

by iCheat



Series: Steter Week 2016 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, M/M, Magic, Prince Peter - Freeform, Royal Hales, Werewolves, gang leader Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:16:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7590709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iCheat/pseuds/iCheat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Hale, Prince of the Hale Kingdom, finds himself kidnapped by a well-known gang of mischievous bandits. He soon finds that they're much better informed than he expected, and there may be more to their infuriating leader than it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Masquerade Bandits

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a chapter fic that I will continue after Steter Week.

“- _how_ you fail to notice he was a Hale?”

Peter awoke to a loud frustrated voice, a blindfold, tied limbs, and a mildly sore head. What was happening?

“Sorry Boss.” several voices said.

“Well, sorry doesn’t exactly solve the problem, does it? I’m the one how has to-” the voice cut off and Peter heard footsteps come his way. “Are you seriously eavesdropping right now?”

The blindfold was pulled off rather suddenly, leaving Peter to blink his vision back. He was met with the sight of a man standing over him, wearing neat, but durable clothes, and a fox masquerade mask. It was surprisingly elegant and fancy, given Peter was pretty sure these were bandits.

Fox mask. Bandits.

“The Golden Fox,” Peter said, taking in the man again. He was rumoured to be the greatest swordsman of the age, having been trained by the spirits of nature themselves. Apparently, his hideout was in some kind of cave system, though this part appeared to be an open area, as the sun streamed in from above them. Peter hat to wonder how high the walls were.

“The one and only,” the man replied with an amused grin, “And these would be my masquerade bandits, whom you can thank for your presence here.”

Peter followed the man’s gesture to see a group with their heads bowed, looking like children being given a scolding. They all wore elegantly crafted masks, the likes of which were more suited for a castle ball than a gang of bandits.

Each mask was unique, though some had similarities. Many were in the form of animals, such as the two blondes, a male and a female, who both wore what Peter suspected were wolves. Ironic.  
“Well, I will admit I did not expect I would be granted the opportunity to meet you in person, unless it was for an execution,” Peter said with a charming smile. Heads snapped up in the group, but the Fox just laughed, grinning down at Peter amusedly when he finished.

“Who is to say there won’t be?” he asked, “You are in my kingdom now, Prince Hale.”

“And you truly believe you can keep me here?” Peter asked with a smirk. The Fox stared at him for a moment longer, his grin become mischievous. He turned to the gathered bandits, who all looked up at him curiously.

“Of course I have forgotten,” he announced loudly, his voice echoing of the rocks. “We are in the presence of a mighty Prince, whom has never remained captured for longer than three days. Truly astounding.”

Peter couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous about the glances the other bandits were exchanging. Their little amused grins suggested there’d been some kind of shift in mood that he’d apparently missed.

“Well, it appears we have an opportunity after all,” the Fox said, “I suggest it is time we break this record. Nothing personal, you’re highness, but I take great pride in deviating from the predictable.”  
“Such boasting may be your downfall.”

“As your confidence may be yours,” the Fox smirked, “Give him the tour!”

“The tour!” the other bandits shouted excitedly, surging forward. They neatly moved around the Fox to lift Peter above their heads. Peter twisted his neck in time to see the amused smile on the Fox’s face as they hurried off with him.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have given the man ideas.

This thought was only reinforced when the bandits suddenly stopped and propelled him forward. Off the edge of a small cliff. Peter’s eyes widened as he saw them watching him fall with laughter.

He prepared for impact, only to rebound up from whatever he landed on. The bandits were laughing even harder as he came back up. It was the most undignified he’d been in a while, admittedly. He tried to snarl at them only to start dropping back down again.

On his second trip up he suddenly felt something collide with him and realised one of the bandits was swinging across the cave system, now with Peter. The ropes were clearly a previously installed system, likely just for amusement.

He couldn’t take in much with how fast they were moving, but what he saw did not give him much comfort.

He suspected he wouldn’t enjoy this ‘tour’.

Sometime later Peter came speeding down a carefully carved slide. He’d been too busy trying not to collide with everything during his ‘tour’ to take too much notice of how the cave system was made. It seemed to be a labyrinth of impossibilities and laughing, masked faces. He hit the stone floor with a grunt to the sound of more laughter.

“Ah, the Prince joins us at last!” the Fox’s voice announced, and Peter hated it a little bit. “Come, join us for a meal, assuming you can keep it down after your tour?”

“I assure you I have been through worse,” Peter said, managing to stand despite his still bound limbs. The Fox just watched him with a small half smile. Peter sneered in return and pulled at his restraints.

They did not break.

Peter stared at them for a moment before looking back up with narrowed eyes. The Fox just smirked back. A man walked over and cut the restraints, before reseating himself as though it was nothing out of the ordinary. The Fox watched Peter the whole time and gestured to a seat near where he was sitting at the head of the long table when Peter looked up again.

Smug bastard.

He still took the seat though. Not only did the food offered look delicious, but obviously there was more to these bandits than he’d expected. The people around him took little to no notice of him, continuing different conversations as though this was an everyday occurrence.

“Kidnap royalty often, do you?” Peter asked. A few careful sniffs revealed none of the food was tainted with anything. Also, the scents of the gang intermingled so much a new wolf would have trouble telling one from another but they all smelt human, though there was a lingering scent of ozone.

“Actually, you’re the first,” said one of the man. His mask looked like roiling waves, the ocean in a storm.

“The Argent’s are not of our preferred company,” explained the woman in the elegant black and red wolf mask, “And we try not to bother the Hale Kingdom too much.”

“Except Derek,” Peter said conversationally. “The queen was not exactly pleased by your intrusion.”

“Your Queen, though she may be a great leader, is far too trusting,” the Fox spoke up, a sneer in his voice, “Besides, could you truly expect us to stand back with so much opportunity laid out before us.”

“Food could have used some work,” the other wolf mask commented, the curly haired boys mask was blue and purple, almost like a bruise.

“I will be sure to pass on that our food was not to a bandits taste,” Peter replied in a sceptical voice. The boy just snorted laugh and looked pointedly a Peter’s plate. Peter just rolled his eyes and began eating. He forced himself not to pause when he tasted the food; it really was delicious but he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

Judging by the amused grins his captives shared they didn’t need a reaction to know what he was thinking.

“You certainly seemed well informed about my family, given your claims,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“No need to be sly, Your Highness,” the Fox replied with a smirk, “You will find that your species will not help you in this scenario. As you no doubt noticed we are familiar with the requirements of keeping a werewolf, though apparently some have forgotten to investigate that far.

Several heads bowed, including both the blonds. The ocean mask just huffed and gave the Fox a pointed look, the Fox sighed.

“Your family will receive assurance of your safe return,” he said plainly, “You will be with us for at least four days. As we have no grievances with you, you will have comfortable accommodations. You will also have a guard with you, or outside your room, at all times. Storm will show you to your room once you finish your meal. I am going to bed.”

“Good night Boss,” the bandits replied together as the Fox pushed out his chair and left the table. Peter watched as ‘Storm’ has some kind of silent conversation with the two wolf masks. Storm tilted his head, the blondes shook their heads, pointedly returning their attention to their food, Storm heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Trouble in paradise?” Peter asked curiously. The blond boy snorted, shaking his head, though his attention remained on his food. The girl, on the other hand, shot Peter a glare.

“Keep in mind, Prince Hale that no one here answers to your crown and many would likely be more than happy to end your life if the Boss commands it,” she practically snarled, “Werewolf or not, you would not survive if he abandoned you in these lands. Mind your tongue.”

That said she stood and followed the Fox’s lead out of the hall. Conversation continued among the other bandits, though it was hushed, and tinted with concern. The blond boy gave Peter an irritated look, but simply continued eating. Storm just sighed again, resting his head in his hands and shaking his head.

How curious. It looked like there was some trouble among the gang.

“Once you finish eating, I’ll escort you to your room,” Storm said after a moment. “I would advise you to be careful. As She-wolf said, no one here holds you in particularly high regard, and some of them have killed for less than an insult towards the Boss.”

“You will have to forgive me if I am not entirely grateful towards the man,” Peter said with a raised eyebrow. “Though I will admit I am impressed by the loyalty you all show to him.”

“We give him what he has earned,” Storm replied with a small, thoughtful frown, eyes drifting away from Peter. He was clearly preoccupied with other thoughts, also possibly the second in command. If nothing else he seemed to be one of the most reasonable of the bandits.

Honestly, how did he get into these situations?

* * *

Peter followed after Storm down… a hallway. Peter frowned, reaching out to run his hand against the wall. His fingers met stone, not unlike the walls of the castle back home.

“Best not to question too much while you’re here.” Storm’s voice warned. Peter’s head snapped up to meet the bandit’s watchful gaze. “The Boss is not one to share his secrets lightly, and you will drive yourself mad before you understand his mind.”

“It is not your Bosses mind I am confused by,” Peter replied, “How is it that you have a castle corridor in a cave.”

“How is it that a man may take the form of a wolf?” Storm smirked, pushing open one of the wooden doors along the hall, “This shall be your room while you stay here. It should be equipped with everything you require. There shall be a guard outside your door at all times.”

“Of course.”

“Sleep well, Prince Hale. Who can say what tomorrow will bring for you?”

“Indeed.”

* * *

“What am I doing?” Stiles groaned, head in his hands as he leant on his desk. How had his live become leading a band of bandits? He’d never…

“Boss?” Erica called gently from the doorway.

“Hey Erica,” he called back, giving her a tired smile, “Finished dinner?”

“Well, you know I never could stand those royal types,” Erica replied with a grin, “You are much better company any day.”

“I am not entirely sure that makes me feel better,” Stiles said with a chuckle, “And you were among the ones who brought him here.”

“I said sorry,” Erica said in a whining voice, “And now we can prove ourselves the best.”

“At holding werewolf Princes?”

“Well, I mean, I guess?”

“Thanks for the encouragement, She-wolf,” Stiles said with a roll of his eyes.

“Are we going to have to use our aliases the whole time he is here?” Erica demanded with a groan.

“Those are the rules and you know it, no names in front of outsiders.”

“Isaac won’t be happy.”

“Then he should have acted less like a puppy when I found you both.” Stiles said with a smirk, “Masks on at all times as well, make sure the others know.”

“Look who’s talking,” Erica replied with a laugh, turning to leave, “I am still wearing mine.”

Stiles shook his head fondly, looking towards the mask sitting on the desk beside him. It had been one of the last his mother had made, with some adjustments. The masks worn by the ‘Masquerade Bandits’, as they’d been named, were all of his design. Unique creations even without the runes carved into the inside of them.

Better safe than sorry when there was a whole royal family of werewolves.

“Stiles.”

Stiles let his head hit the desk, groaning loudly.

“God, you’re melodramatic,” Danny said, grabbing a chair to sit down, taking off his own mask and placing the stormy ocean next to the golden fox, “This is not that bad. Why is it setting you off?”

“What am I doing, Danny?” Stiles demanded, turning towards his friend, “I haven’t seen my dad or my best friend since I was nine, I’m a wanted man in the Argent Kingdom, and now I am responsible for the capture of Prince Peter Hale of the Hale Kingdom. There is a _Hale_ in the hideout of the Masquerade Bandits.”

“And instead of trying to warn him about the Argents or make any kind of peace, you’re alienating him so that he hates you,” Danny said with a raised eyebrow. “For someone of your intellect that is not the most strategic plan.”

“Making peace? Danny, you may have missed it, but I’m a bandit. Royalty does not make peace with bandits, especially not one holding them captive.”

“Maybe not a bandit, but royalty does make peace with royalty,” Danny said with a pointed look. “It’s rather essential, in fact.”

“I am not royalty,” Stiles said sharply, “I’m _not_. I am not exactly King material, Danny. I’m a bandit. I have been a bandit since I was nine. Bandits don’t suddenly turn around and become Kings. Besides, I don’t really have the qualities-”

“Of what, a leader?” Danny cut in, a sceptical look on his face, “Stiles have you seen the people you have here? Orphans, scavengers, survivors. You brought them in. You gave them lives, a home, a second chance. Stiles you mean everything to these people. Everyone who wears one of your masks would give their life for you, and you’re telling me you’re not a leader?”

“A ruler, Danny!” Stiles snapped, “It’s different. I can lead people, sure. Instructions and strategizing, easy. What we have here, this little group? I love this, and all you guys, but this is _tiny_ compared to a kingdom. Ruling? That is a bit different. That’s managing a kingdom, serving the people, running records, making alliances, strategic marriage. That’s sending people out into situations they might not come back from without being on the front lines. I can’t _rule_ , Danny.”

“Stiles,” Danny said gently, putting his hands on Stiles shoulders and forcing their eyes to meet. “You have kept two extremely powerful kingdoms from war, while wearing a mask and calling yourself a bandit. Do you really think you can avoid this forever?”

“Danny, you’re a great friend,” Stiles said quietly, standing up to move away, collecting his mask as he went, “But I’m serious, I am not a king, or a prince. I’m a bandit, it’s what I’m good at.”

“Stiles…”

“Four nights. Four nights and Hale is gone. Then things can get back on track. Don’t you have a best friend rescue to be worrying about? I am going to bed.”

“…Good night, Stiles.”

“Night Danny.”

* * *


End file.
